Saturday, July 15, 2006

This should be the last entry that I'm going to post.

I don't get it with you. Honestly, you're making me feel stupid to actually pity and follow you. I even find that all the letters you wrote to me are now so meaningless. Utterly. Especially when I think about the letters and think about now. Its really... its pathetic.

I regretted going back with you, really. My mom acutally even told me not to and yet, I stupidly did. If I didn't I'll probably be happier. Sure, the holidays we shared woes and everything together. Specially when my grandmother passed on. But then, now I come to think about it, everything leads to nowhere.

I'm never going to pity, sympathise or even think that you're pitifuly if you're left alone, sad or whatsoever. You know I really don't want to pick a fight. After the concert on 7July, I thought things was going to be fine. I wasn't expecting much like going back to old times, but didn't expect things to be worse? And you know what, its true that my mother doesn't like you. Its like so true.

You can say I'm over protective, I'm to sensitive. But sad to say, this is me. I can't change that, and if I do change it because of you. Its not me. Why should I do all the changing up while you are just sitting there pinpointing? So what you are so well known? So what if you're popular. Sometimes I just can't stand your voice either. Sometimes, I just think it disgusts me.

I thought that offering a ride you to somewhere would acutally help. And yet, what you gave me back was a disgusted face. Like what's with that? If you don't need a ride, just say, no thanks. Or at least its alright. Because so happens that God made eyes for me to see your expressions. Which is just rude. So what now? So now its my fault for giving you the offer?

I really don't get it with you. Really. One thing can really help. Stop making my life a living hell already. I hope we won't patch up soon. Cause I really don't want to. Cause I think you just don't take things seriously. It seems to me like the letters you wrote is like for being grateful, like for the fun of writting.

Whatever la. Cause you're just treating me like a spare friend. When you have friends, you leave me out. When you don't, you come to me.